


Never Pain to Me

by infernalandmortal



Series: Memori Drabbles [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post 04x01, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernalandmortal/pseuds/infernalandmortal
Summary: “And…” She looks away. “I forgot. About Otan and my stain and everything. Everything but you, because you were never pain to me.” She turns her head away and Murphy sees a tear fall over her nose. “Sometimes I miss it. And I hate myself for it.”Murphy knows he should try to say something wise but all he can hear is “you were never pain to me.” He doubts there’s another person, living or dead, who would ever say that about him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this thing after 04x01 even though this won't be canon in like two days haha. I hope you like it nonetheless!

They walk in silence for a while, cautiously listening and watching until the cacophony of Polis fades. The gun slung over his back is uncomfortable and Emori is staring at it like she wants to either throw it in the river or strip it for parts.

He watches her from his periphery. She’s not talking much and her shoulders have a weary set to them, like something is weighing her down from the inside out. He knows if he asks that she’ll only lie.  
  
He asks anyway.

“Are you okay?”

Her eyes won’t meet his. She looks at the path ahead of them, at the sky, at the wrap around her hand. He wishes she’d take it off. He always liked it better when she was confident. “I’m fine, John. I’ll be better when we’re away from there.”

He grinds to a halt on the path. Enough is enough and she’s demanded honesty from enough times where he feels welcome to return the favor. “Talk to me.”

Her eyes are incredulous. She still won’t look at him but her eyes scan the path. “Here?”

“Here,” he confirms.

She wraps her arms around her torso, tucking her left hand inside her jacket. Her shame is back and Murphy hates it. “Talk to you about what?”

“Why you’re not talking to me. Why you won’t look at me.”

The sun peeks from behind the clouds. Her brown eyes turn amber in the light. She’s bending, bending, bending, her face softening and hardening like the flicker of a fire. “Why don’t you hate me?”

She breaks. Her words are a gunshot. Her eyes are a knife to his throat.

“Why would I?”

She widens her stance slightly, her shoulders squaring almost automatically. Fight or flight. He was one, she was the other. “I left you.” Her lower lip quivers. Murphy sees marks in the skin, remembers sinking his own teeth into those divots.

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. A leaf crunches under his feet. “I know why you did it. It’s okay.”

Emori lets out a shaky sigh. “And…” She looks away. “I forgot. About Otan and my stain and everything. Everything but you, because you were never pain to me.” She turns her head away and Murphy sees a tear fall over her nose. “Sometimes I miss it. And I hate myself for it.”

Murphy knows he should try to say something wise but all he can hear is “you were never pain to me.” He doubts there’s another person, living or dead, who would ever say that about him.

“I can’t tell you how to feel,” he says slowly because this is new territory for him and he doesn’t want to burn her with his ineptitude. “But I think it’s okay to miss not feeling.”

“I wouldn’t trade you for it.”

“I know.”

She reaches out for his hand with her bad one. He takes it and pulls off her wrap. He brushes his lips over the scar on her wrist.

“You’re strong,” he whispers into the skin, wishing he could rename that scar. “You’re strong and beautiful and damn it, I love you.”

She laughs, smiles like the sun, and he feels her heart race. Murphy forgets how to breathe.


End file.
